Dust: Hero of Elysium
by awesome736
Summary: Dust awakens in the Glade to discover that he is alive. However, despite his wishes to carry out a normal life for himself, he discovers that the Moonbloods are in danger yet again, as is the entire land of Falana. Dust, along with Fidget, takes up his blade once more to defend Falana, his friends, and his rediscovered identity.
1. Chapter 1

"_When the Life Thread begins to pull you, when it calls you, you must answer to it. When it claims you, there is no turning back. You die, in the simplest terms. However, there occasionally comes a time, once every hundred thousand or so years, there comes an entity that the Life Thread claims. Their purpose might not be completed yet. This being, no matter the way of death, will then be returned to the world from one of two forms, either reformation or rebirth. The resurrected soul, however, is not usually any normal being. This being would have had to have a legendary purpose, only being returned to life to save the world from destruction._

_This person will most likely have previously wielded or will wield one of the five Blades of Elysium. The guardian of the Blade, even if your companion is supposedly 'dead', is obligated to follow the Blade as it seeks out its Master. If the Blade remains dormant, however, the guardian must return it back to the place of origin and continue to guard it."_

—_A passage from the ancient Doctrines of Elysium_

* * *

He felt cold.

Every bit of his body was covered in an icy chill. He couldn't quite process what on earth was happening, nor could he quit comprehend who he was. He couldn't feel. He couldn't see. He couldn't think.

All he knew was the cold and the eerie silence.

"_Dust…_"

The single word rose forth and pierced the silence. But it didn't pierce it entirely. The word more made a small hole in the quiet, like a needle piercing fabric. Nevertheless, it was there and it echoed about in the dark, and then stopped.

"_Dust…_"

There it was again. This time however, it was louder. And with the single word came a small sparkle of light. The light and the word grew and grew. Faster and faster. The cold was melting away. Finally, the blackness of his vision disappeared, replaced by white. Then, the final words came.

"_Wake, Dust_."

Birds were chirping. Leaves rustled in the trees. Sunlight sparkled through the branches. He noticed that he could breathe. He could see. He could hear.

But everything hurt and his mind was not functioning. Green blades of grass cradled his head and body, and the wind whistled a sweet lullaby to him as he tried to properly operate. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours. What was happening?

"_Dust. At last, you're awake_."

The voice was clear and very close. He rolled his head to the side to discover a sword. The hilt rested in his palm, though he did not grasp it. Symbols glowed on the sword, and its shape was different, yet familiar.

The name entered his mind. "Ahrah," he rasped. The sword was named Ahrah. He had wielded Ahrah.

"_I am glad you are alright,_" replied the sword. "_I had feared you would not awake_."

Slowly, shards of memory pieced together. Dust was his name. He had two souls. He had killed thousands of people in his past life. He had saved the world. He had died. But yet Dust appeared to be alive.

"What happened, Ahrah?" Dust breathed. "Where are we…?"

"_Back in the Glade, a few miles from where we first met," Ahrah replied. "After the battle we had come here. You and I had somehow survived. Sen-Mithrarin, 'He who is born of dust.' Born of the dust, and saved by the dust_."

"Wh… What? I don't understand." Dust's head pounded. His mind, though piecing together, still felt weak and fuzzy. Even when he was on his back, the world spun and dizziness lingered in his mind.

"_You were returned from the Life Thread, Dust. I imagine this is a bit confusing_."

Returned by the Life Thread? No, that wasn't possible. As memories quietly formed once again, Dust remembered. General Gaius had killed himself. Fidget had tried to pull him to his feet. Dust remembered feeling an imaginary thread, gently pulling him to death. Tired and defeated, he'd allowed it to take over. And that was it.

Dust had died. So why was he here? The Life Thread didn't just give people back, especially when Dust was consumed by the volcano. His entire body was destroyed. But he had hands, he could feel his legs, and he assumed he had a head still.

Born of the dust and saved by the dust…

"_Can you stand_?" Ahrah asked. "_You might still be weary from the events of the battle with Gaius_."

"I… I'll be fine," Dust murmured in reply. Tightening his hold on Ahrah, Dust sat up, pushing the blade of his sword down into the dirt and using it to support himself.

Head was spinning.

Dust pulled on the hilt and hoisted himself upwards.

Dizziness exploded in his brain.

Dust took to one knee and took a moment to compose himself. It wasn't working.

"_Take your time_," Ahrah assured his master.

Dust breathed. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. In. Out._

He felt tired. God, so tired. Dust's whole body ached with fatigue. He eventually lowered down to a kneeling position, both hands grasping the hilt of Ahrah. Pain shot through his head, his mentality was fuzzy. He didn't move for what seemed like forever. Ahrah was patient, but Dust felt like Ahrah might be getting irritated.

"Just give me a moment, please," Dust whispered. He wanted to lie down once more and never get up. But he couldn't. He needed to get up and move and go wherever he had to go.

He wondered where Fidget was so she could give him some moral support here.

He looked around, and noticed that the hat that was usually perched atop his head laid a little ways off from him. He wondered how that happened; he had thought he had lost it in the blast. In fact, aside from a couple rips and holes here and there, Dust's clothes were still intact. He wondered how that was possible.

Oh, he'd figure everything out later. Right now, Dust wanted to retrieve his hat. Now at least he had some form of motivation.

Hoisting himself to his feet, using Ahrah for support, Dust began to slowly make his way over to his hat. It was a long, dizzying process.

_First step… Second step…_

Dust already felt as though he would vomit or faint.

_Third… fourth…_

The hat was only a few more paces forth. Dust wasn't sure how long he could last.

_Fifth… Sixth…_

Dust stopped for a moment. Everything turned and twisted in all directions. He kept going.

_Seventh…_

Dust took to kneeling once more. The hat was so close. He'd rest a moment and then continue on towards it.

"_Dust,_" Ahrah suddenly said urgently. "_We are not alone." _

As soon as the words were delivered, a low growl escaped through the underbrush. Dust angled his vision towards the noise.

"Fidget? Is that you?" Dust whispered hopefully.

Oh, he was so wrong.

It was not Fidget that slowly drew out from the shadows, but a monster. In its starved, bony hands it held a club about the size of Ahrah, studded with spikes. Saliva dripped from its jaws.

A Beastman.

"_Dust, you do not have the energy to fight this creature. Run!_"

Dust heaved himself to his feet, pulling Ahrah from the ground and trying to move quickly. But walking was already a chore, and running was even more so. Dust faltered and toppled to the ground, face-first. Accidentally letting go of Ahrah, the sword flung off in another direction.

The ground smashed into his face painfully, and Dust grunted in displeasure. Trying to pull himself up once more, he felt something smash into his back. The Beastman had caught up to him, and had him at the mercy.

Dust cried out at the blow, feeling the painful spikes dig into his back, and sunk to the ground once more. He tried again to move away, but each time a blow came down upon him like the wrath of an angry god.

Finally, Dust lay there. The Life Thread had returned him, but he would return again, he predicted. Rolling over onto his back, he looked at his assailant. It raised its club for the killing blow.

_Ashes to ashes…_

"NOOO!"

Dust saw a bright light form out of the corner of his vision. Electricity, if he was correct. It shot toward the creature, mercilessly, until finally it moved away and ran off.

"Dust? DUST!"

A familiar, high-pitched squeak sounded, and Dust saw a small orange ball of fur hovering about him.

_Fidget._

"Dust! Are you alright?! Come on, get up!" The nimbat tugged furiously on his sleeve. "Come on! I didn't follow you out here for nothing! Please, pretty, pretty please with lots of cupcakes with icing and a cherry on top?" Fidget tugged again. "Please get up!"

"F… Fidget…" Dust whispered. Everything was fuzzy and going dark again. He turned himself over again and tried to pull himself forward. Fidget kept tugging on his sleeve.

"That's it, Dust!" She cried. "Just come on and we'll find a place where you can rest and then you'll be okay! Keep going!"

Dust couldn't. With one last pull, he sunk to the ground once more.

"Dust? Dust come on, get UP! You big, stupid, meanie… Stupid-head! Don't do this!" Fidget kept calling out to him, but it was in vain.

As Fidget screeched at him, he caught a glimpse of his hat behind her. Listening to her taunts somehow made Dust feel better. He glanced up at his companion. She was yelling at him furiously, pleadingly. Then everything faded away and it was dark yet again.

* * *

When Dust fell unconscious, Fidget panicked, to say the least. She completely lost it.

"What do I do?! Don't die again, please, Dust! Don't do this! Oh, no what do I do?! If I leave him he'll die, if I stay then he'll still die! Oh, I dunno anything aside from getting a cut! Think, Fidget, THINK!"

"_Fidget, calm yourself!_"

Turning, Fidget saw the Blade of Ahrah on the ground a few feet from Dust's location. Quickly, she hovered over.

"What do I do, Mister Sword?! He'll die!" Fidget cried.

"_Focus, Fidget. We are in the Glade, although I do not know the exact location of where we met Dust, nor the location of Aurora. Quickly, go and try to find anyone in the forest at this time who will help us. Hurry!"_

Fidget obeyed, and without another word she bolted into the woods. Fear clawed her belly. She felt her eyes glisten with moisture.

Fidget disappeared into the underbrush.


	2. Chapter 2

Fidget barreled through the trees of the Glade as fast as her wings could carry her.

Panting and gasping for air, her wings beat against her sides like whips. Ducking through trees and narrowly missing sharp branches. The little nimbat still did not stop. She could only think of Dust, lying half-dead in the middle of the woods. The thought burned into her mind like fire searing her head.

Fidget would not leave Dust again. She would never lose him again, not after all they'd been through. Dust was her friend, and friends stuck by other friends until the end of forever.

Fidget's lack of attention proved to be her temporary downfall. As she flew, one of her legs hooked around a branch. Spiraling downwards, forwards, in every which direction, Fidget let out a loud screech before her body hooked into a plethora of branches and twigs and gnarled limbs.

The trees seemed to laugh at poor Fidget as she struggled to and fro to escape the tight hold of the branches. They poked into her sides painfully, scratched up her delicate skin, and tore out tufts of fur as she wiggled about in her wooden prison.

"Stupid trees!" She hissed. Fidget kicked and struggled some more. "Let me go! I said, LET ME GO!"

_CRACK!_

One of the branches snapped. The others followed. Fidget cried out in fright, willing herself not to look down. She only plummeted a foot or two before being caught by another tree limb. The wood slapped her back like a whip, and moments after she felt a burning sensation over the affected area.

Fidget groaned in pain, took a moment to compose herself, and turned over onto her tummy. A spider of fear was crawling up her back, tickling her skin and fur with an uneasy sensation. Would Dust be okay? Would he die? No, Fidget had just found him again; no way would she ever lose him.

The spider of fear traveled up her back and onto her shoulder. It haunted her, tickled her fur, and made her feel as though-

Wait just a golly-hopping second _oh my dear sweet mother of Elysium it was an __**actual spider**_.

Fidget clawed and shrieked at the arachnid perched upon her shoulder, viciously snapping her wings back and forth and clawing about the air like a madman. The little nimbat took to taking off into the air again quickly afterwards.

"GET IT OFF, GETITOFFGETITOFF!" Fidget screeched, blinded by her fear and flying in every which direction. The image of Dust left her mind for just a moment. There was still urgency, but not all of it for the sake of her friend.

For the moment it was to get that big, hairy, eight-legged, man-eating, venomous creature out of her fur. Unknown to Fidget, the spider had fallen from her fur moments before she took off.

Tree branches whipped at Fidget's face and legs as she flew. The occasional brush of a branch left the illusion that the spider was still there, and the painful strike of the hands of a branch gave the illusion that is was biting her.

Fidget, after going in blind for about twenty seconds to a minute, finally felt the last branch whip her back, and suddenly felt clear air rush around her. For some reason, Fidget's panic still remained, and she kept going.

She flew until she collided with something soft and warm.

"Goodness!" cried an unknown voice.

Fidget spun backwards and, knocked out of her trance, looked upwards to see what she had hit. Or rather whom she had hit.

A young female was standing before Fidget. This female had long, thick brown hair that fell down her back in a long, messy braid. Large, rounded ears crowned her head, and wavy bangs hung down, brushed to the right side of her face. Her fur was a pale brown, and her eyes were ruddy and speckled with gold. The girl wore a dress that sparkled in the daylight, and on her feet wore dark brown sandals.

The stranger blinked at Fidget. "You gave me a fright," She said with a giggle. She kneeled down to Fidget's eye-level. "We don't see many nimbats around here… What are you doing here?"

Fidget glanced around. She as well as the stranger stood in a clearing. Behind the girl was a small house, as well as a tiny vegetable garden. Vines curled up the walls, and flowers peeped out of the soil littering the clearing.

Just how far had Fidget gone?

The nimbat shook her head furiously. "I'm sorry! I'd be a bit more formal but it's urgent!" Fidget explained, her panic returning and growing each second.

The stranger, shocked, replied after a moment, "I was not aware nimbats could talk."

Fidget, angered at how uneducated people were these days, quietly pushed her impatience down for another moment. "That doesn't matter! Listen, my friend is in trouble and he might die! Please help me!"

"I… I'm sorry?"

Fidget bit her lip in fury. "My friend was attacked by a monster and he is going to die unless you get out there and help me!" Impatience riddled Fidget's voice. "Now are you going to help me or are you not?!"

The girl, at the very least, seemed rather shocked. "Why are you…?" The stranger paused. "Take me to your friend and I'll see what I can do."

Fidget's heart leaped. "This way!" Spinning about, Fidget began a speedy takeoff, and suddenly skidded to a stop at the edge of the forest. She realized at that moment that due to the whole spider incident, her blind flying had sent her in all directions. Most likely, Fidget had strayed off her mental path to Dust.

In other words she had no clue how to get back.

"Miss Nimbat? Are you alright?" The stranger seemed worried.

"I… I don't know…"

"Pardon?"

The orange nimbat's shoulders trembled, and she suddenly erupted into rivers of tears.

"_WAAAAAAAH!_"

The girl cautiously moved towards Fidget.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

Fidget gasped and sniffled with every word. "I… _sniff_… Dust fought the big mean guy… a-a-and we thought he was dead… and now he's hurt… and I lost my way… _sniff… sniff… _And now he'll die because of me!" Fidget wailed and let the rivers of tears that she had hidden away fall from her eyes.

"Oh… um… I see," the girl fibbed. She could barely understand nor make sense of what Fidget just said, let alone make sense of Fidget. Still, she quietly pondered a way to both quiet the nimbat and help her with this dilemma.

A thought crossed the stranger's mind.

"Miss Nimbat," the stranger said sweetly, consoling the orange ball of fur, "You seemed to be in a rush when you and I met, correct?"

"_Sniff… _Yes…"

"And the forest is rather thick in this neck of the woods, correct?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you break some branches on the way down here?"

Fidget slowly caught on. "Yes…"

"Try looking for a trail of broken branches, I guess. Then you might find a familiar landmark."

Fidget gasped and bolted onto the woods. She stopped, looked around, and tried to find a broken branch or two.

Sure enough, not only were there broken branches hanging in the trees, farther down, a small tuft of orange fur clung to a tree limb.

Fidget's heart leapt. She was going to save Dust. He would live, she knew it.

"This way!" Fidget called out to her companion. The stranger smiled, following the little nimbat. The two set out into the thicket, following a trail of broken twigs and the occasional tuft of fur. The pieces of fur began to multiply, until Fidget found the tree where the spider tried to kill her.

"I know this place! I know where to go now!" Fidget squealed. "Come on!"

Fidget's speed intensified, and the girl behind her needed to run to keep up.

"Oh!" Fidget cried, looking down over the stranger. "I'm Fidget, by the way!"

The Stranger kept running, huffing and puffing. "I'm… Brandi…"

Fidget grinned.

* * *

The duo erupted into the clearing where Dust and Ahrah laid dormant. Fidget immediately flew to Dust, trying to pull his sleeves and cape and getting him to do something, anything.

Brandi had thought Fidget meant that her friend was another nimbat. She was not prepared for the fact that a fully-grown male lay injured and unconscious in the Glade. That didn't matter, however. Brandi shook it off and made her way to Dust and Fidget.

Dust was quite a pitiful sight. He glistened with moisture, his hair spiked up in all directions. Brandi could see small holes in his cape ringed with small traces of blood.

"Let me see him," Brandi ordered. Fidget moved away from her friend, worry filling her heart again. Brandi rolled Dust onto his back. "What happened to you two?"

Fidget rubbed her knees together. "He was attacked by a monster and… I don't know why he didn't fight back, but it almost killed him. I managed to make it go away before… Is he okay?"

Brandi pressed two fingers against Dust's neck. He had a weak but steady pulse, and was covered in perspiration.

"He's okay now," Brandi replied, "but not for long. My brother has a stash of supplies back at my house; I can treat him there." The girl hoisted the young man to his feet and slung one of his arms around her shoulder. "Fidget, can you carry the sword or the satgat?"

Fidget scoffed. "Ha! I laugh at the sword! I will demonstrate my awesome, super, amazing strength by carrying the sword!" Fidget then proceeded to grab Ahrah's hilt and, with a mighty tug, dragged it across the ground. It was not easy.

Nor was it easy for Brandi to carry Dust. Her shoulders ached already, sweat already clung to her fur—not all of it was hers—and her instinct told her to release the nimbat and the young man and wander back home. Make some tea; wait for Damien to return and just sleep.

But she didn't and she wouldn't.

The tired young girl dragged her patient, stooped down, and picked up the satgat. Brandi and Fidget thus began their trek back to the cabin. Dust didn't wake.

* * *

The door to Brandi's home creaked open.

Sunlight poured in like melting butter through the windows. A tiny kitchen, stocked with food in one row of cabinets and filled with medicines in another, lay pushed into the corner of the room. A countertop separated the kitchen from a shiny wooden dining table, completed with wooden chairs. Pictures were strewn about the walls, and tables with photos and extinguished candles were pressed against the walls.

A narrow hallway led down to doors. In each door there was a bedroom, both frequently used. Another hallway, wider and shorter, led down to a third bedroom, unoccupied and deserted.

Brandi called out. "Hello? Damien? Are you here?"

No reply.

"Damien?" A little louder this time.

Still no reply.

Brandi and Fidget took this as the time to move. Dragging an unconscious Dust into the home as well as a quiet Ahrah, Brandi bumped the door closed with her rump and dragged Dust into the third, unused bedroom. Fidget dragged the sword slowly behind, grunting with effort.

Brandi pulled back the sheets with one arm and, still holding the satgat in the other arm, released Dust onto the mattress below. Giving her shoulders a moment of bliss, Brandi threw Dust's legs onto the mattress with him, and had the young man face up towards the ceiling.

His arms were crooked, but that was fine. One arm rested over Dust's chest while the other bent towards his head. His mouth hung open. He had scratches and what appeared to be small burns on his face. He smelt of perspiration and smoke.

Brandi looked away from him for just a moment to gaze around the bedroom. The wallpaper was a creamy white, torn in some areas and faded in more. There were large white squares where pictures used to hang; cobwebs were strewn about the corners of room. The bed where Dust lay asleep was covered in a worn, flowery comforter with patches sewn on in a few areas and embroidered letters in the corners. The bedpost had been eroded down in a few areas, and it desperately needed to be sanded.

Looking around this room, Brandi tried to recall the faces of the two adults who used to live here with her and her brother. But she couldn't. It was sad, really.

Brandi's train of thought was broken by Fidget's final moan as she heaved the sword against the wall adjacent to the door. The nimbat took a moment to catch her breath before hovering over to join Brandi.

"Mission accomplished!" Fidget chirped. Brandi smiled at her and pulled the sheets over Dust just over his chest.

"Alright, just a fair warning," Brandi began, her voice taking on a serious tone, "my brother, Damien… He doesn't really take kindly to strangers in the house. He's a doctor, and he knows more than I do, but long story short he _cannot know_ you two are here. Is that clear, Fidget?"

Fidget raised an eyebrow. "If he's a doctor, wouldn't he be obligated to help people in need?"

Brandi looked down at her feet. "He's very cautious nowadays. He travels up to villages to see patients instead of letting them come here."

"Why?"

"He just… I don't know…" Brandi folded her arms. "But he taught me some of the things he knows, so I'll do what I can. He's supposed to come back home tomorrow."

"Oh," Fidget murmured. "Oh, okay… Er, about Dust…"

"Oh, yes, of course." Brandi hung up the satgat on one of the bed knobs, and turned her attention back to her ailing patient. She checked for a pulse again. It remained weak but steady. Brandi used the hem of her dress to wipe some of the sweat from Dust's face before pressing her palm against his forehead. He was burning up. That was a possible symptom of exhaustion. "Was he hit by the Beastman?"

"I… I don't know… I only showed up just as it was about to give the killing blow. He was on his back when I found him?"

Brandi flushed. Despite everything, every fiber of her being was against removing the shirt of a boy. But she needed to check if there were any serious injuries. On the other hand, he might not have been hit at all. On the other hand, if he was hit, he might be injured badly.

Time to get some guts.

Gritting her teeth, Brandi shoved Dust up into a sitting position. Fidget pressed on his shoulders to keep him upright and Brandi kept a hand on his lower back. With reluctance, fear, and tension, Brandi unbuttoned Dust's cape, removed his vest and gently took the hem of his shirt in her hands. Slowly, with a deep blush on her cheeks, she lifted up the shirt and studied Dust's chest.

There were some scratches, scars, and burns, but nothing that appeared to be from a Beastman.

"Fidget, lift up the back of his shirt," Brandi said, quickly pulling down Dust's shirt again.

As Fidget did so, she let out a small whimper. "I found it," she muttered nervously."

Brandi leaned over. On Dust's back there were a lot of bruises, recently formed it appeared, and small punctures in the skin where a spiked club must have struck. In a few areas, a few spikes still remained embedded into the skin, surrounded by pus and a little blood.

Brandi swallowed down her lunch and pulled down the shirt once more. "Wait here," she commanded Fidget before exiting the room.

Fidget watched her go before turning to her fallen friend, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the beads of sweat soak his fur. Fidget alighted on the bedpost, her feet hanging over Dust's head. A sigh escaped her.

"We did everything we were supposed to do," she whimpered. "Why did it have to turn out like this…?"

Tears once again formed at the rims of Fidget's eyes. Tiny sobs escaped her as everything from the past couple of days fell down upon her shoulders. It was too much, this whole thing wasn't something she could handle. Dust had died, she had left him there at his orders. He had come back. But now he was hurt and he almost died again and Fidget's mind was everywhere.

She didn't understand.

The door creaked open again, and Fidget looked over towards the visitor. It was Brandi, with a bundle of herbs in a tiny basket and a pair of tweezers.

Fidget took a deep breath and allowed Brandi to do whatever she needed to do.

Dust still did not wake.

Ahrah was silent.

_Dust to dust…_


End file.
